


Full Up

by DenmarkStreetGutterClub



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29296701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DenmarkStreetGutterClub/pseuds/DenmarkStreetGutterClub
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33





	Full Up

“Oh, stop,” Robin chuckles, and Nick and Ilsa laugh.

Strike throws a casual arm across the back of her chair and leans in close, whispering into her ear. 

“Not what you said last night,” he teases, and the back of her neck prickles as she continues looking straight ahead at the table, reaching for the bottle of wine. Strike grabs it nimbly and refills her glass, his breath warm at her skin as he whispers her own words from last night back to her. 

“Don’t stop, Cormoran. Please, don’t stop-”

Robin clenches a hand under the table, unable to hear what Ilsa is asking. Robin grins at him; after a few weeks of enforced abstinence caused by busy, alternate schedules at work, she and Strike have a few days off together, and the feeling is heady and effervescent. Over the past 48 hours of reunion, their sex life has ramped up considerably. So has their comfort level with a bit of naughty flirtation.

She holds her other hand out and gestures at the wine glass. 

“That’s enough.” She turns her head finally, meeting his eyes. 

“I’m thirsty, but wine isn’t going to do much.”

He raises his eyebrows in silent acknowledgement. 

She leans forward and kisses him softly. 

“I’m going upstairs to the guest bedroom,” she whispers. “Meet you there in a bit.”

He winks and squeezes her hand. She stands, excuses herself, and heads upstairs to the guest bedroom where their suitcase is. Her heart is fluttering as she strips off her clothes and bra, leaving only the pair of lace knickers that tie at the sides. She switches on the lamp and sits on the soft armchair in the corner, crossing her legs, then changes her mind and stands, hands on hips. 

She’s just changed her mind again and lain back on the bed when she hears his heavy tread and a knock on the door. 

“It’s me,” he calls softly. 

******

Strike has never been more grateful that Nick and Ilsa have a guest room. 

Dinner was lovely, but he and Robin’s alternating shifts for the past few weeks has meant a lack in time spent together. He's wanted her company, and now that a few hours of catching up at dinner has passed, he wants _her_.

He opens the door to the guest room to see Robin lying on the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of lace knickers with satin ties at her hips. Her pale skin glows in the lamplight, her body lush and slightly pink from the evening’s wine. 

It’s her shy smile that kills him, though. 

“Hi, Strike.”

A flush of pleasure shoots straight to his cock, which stiffens. 

“Hi, Ellacott.”

He steps into the room, eyes on her, and stumbles as his foot knocks into something. He catches himself, but Robin shoots up off the bed. 

“Oh my God, my handbag! I tossed it aside, earlier. I’m sorry!”

He’s already recovered his balance, holding out a hand and smiling at her.

“I’ve got it.”

Items have spilled out on the floor, and Robin jumps down to help gather them. Strike collects a hairbrush, a set of keys, a bottle of lotion, a-

He realizes what the items are, and stills. Robin looks over and sees what’s in his hand, and she freezes as well. 

She tucks her hair behind her ear, giving an embarrassed giggle.

“I bought them with Vanessa, one day, as a lark. We were out to lunch and she had to visit one of those shops for a hen party that she was planning, and I bought them on a whim. A joke, really, at Vanessa’s insistence.”

He nods, and places the lube and plug back into Robin’s handbag, ignoring how painfully hard his cock has just become.

“Have you - have _you_ used one before?” he hears her ask, above the sudden roaring in his ears. 

He looks up at her, regarding her carefully. She looks a bit wide-eyed, but she’s not shying away from the answer, he can tell. 

He nods. 

“Yeah.”

She takes a breath, nodding as if that’s what she expected. 

“Is it - how good does it feel?”

His pulse is pounding, entirely in his cock, it seems, but he takes care to sound casual. 

“Very.”

Robin nods again, and he reaches out and pulls her to him, kissing the crown of her head. 

“Robin. You’re enough,” he says simply, and truthfully. He wants her to know that she’s _more_ than enough; that she doesn’t need to go past her comfort zone based on some notion that she has. 

She stands back from him and looks up, and from the determination in her eyes, he knows what she’s going to ask before she does.

“Do you want - can we try it?”

“What, right now?” he laughs, but she nods, placing her hands on his chest. 

“Yeah.”

“Robin, you don’t have anything to prove. I’m a happy man, here.”

He’s watching her, and she smiles.

“I know. I know that. The thing is, I’ve actually been working up the nerve to ask you about it for weeks, and this just seemed like a sign.”

He scratches the back of his neck, studying her. 

“Are you sure?”

Robin lifts her chin, and the sudden, wicked glint in those blue-grey eyes sends another pulse of pleasure to his cock. 

“I’m sure. I trust you...I’m sure.”  
He exhales, then nods. He bends his head down and kisses her. “We can stop any time it makes you uncomfortable.”

“I know.” 

The vulnerability goes straight to his heart. 

He takes the bottle of lube and the packaged plug out of her handbag, putting them both on the nightstand. Then he walks back to her and leads her to the bed. He’s going to draw this out and go as slow as he possibly can. He can tell she’s willing, and eager, but he wants her relaxed and as comfortable as she possibly can be.

They kiss, slow and meandering. He’s soft with her, letting his hands warm her skin, whispering endearments into her ear, letting his palms travel over every inch of her, treasuring her. She grows boneless and liquid; they get his shirt off, then his trousers, and she’s undulating against him, he can feel the wetness seeping through those lace knickers against his leg as she begs for more.

That’s good: he wants her excited, and on the edge. Robin makes a plaintive noise, fingernails digging into his skin. Strike breaks the kiss. 

“Let’s get you naked.”

She nods eagerly and starts to roll onto her back, but Strike shakes his head and nuzzles her neck, his hand gentle on her arms as he rolls her slightly, coaxing her onto her stomach. He unties the satin bows of her underwear, surprised to see that his own hands are a bit unsteady. He knows he has to take his time, make her feel secure and loved and worked up as much as he can get her. He didn’t realize he’d need some calming, as well.

So he starts to tease; smoothing large hands down her spine, coasting along her hips. Then he bends down and uses his mouth, alternating the liquid softness of his tongue with the gentle scruff on his jaw, every little sound of need that she makes shooting right to his cock, making it grow harder and harder. 

He reaches her arse, caressing and biting and massaging, enjoying the feel of her skin growing warm at his touch. He dips his fingers between her legs and circles her clit for a few leisurely moments, then quickly withdraws them. 

“Cormoran?” she moans, lifting her bum off the mattress.

“Yeah gorgeous?”

“I wanna come.”

His tone is carefully, gently off-hand. “Is that right.”

Robin groans and gives a shake of her red-gold head into the pillow before trying to slide her hand between her legs to give herself the satisfaction that he won’t. 

Not yet. He maneuvers himself so he’s straddling her legs, letting his good leg absorb most of his weight, and grabs her hands in his. She moans again, and bucks underneath him. 

He threads his fingers through hers and stretches out, keeping her legs tightly together by planting a knee on either side of her thighs, and slides his cock along the seam of her arse. Her fingers tighten around his, and she swears. 

“Bloody Christ.”

He chuckles. 

“You’ve got a dirtier mouth than I do sometimes.”

He can see the edge of her grin, and turns it into a gasp when he rubs his cock against her arse again. He kisses her, deep and deliberate, using every stoke of his tongue to remind her of what she’s not getting, and wants.

Strike breaks the kiss and sits up, balancing on his good leg and easing his bad knee between her thighs. She reacts immediately, wriggling down the bed towards it, wanting to rub against it, seeking relief. 

He gives her bum a quick, light, slap. She gasps, looking over her shoulder. 

He raises an eyebrow. 

“Patience, Ellacott. I promise I’ll make it worth it.”

He grabs a couple of pillows, slipping an arm under her waist and propping her up. Then he grabs the small bottle of lube he placed on the nightstand, pouring a thin stream along the cleft of her arse, which earns him another full-throated, Robin-groan.

Slowly, he takes the tip of the plug and strokes it in one steady motion from her clit to her arse, watching for her reaction. He’s rewarded with a gasp and a slight movement of her hips up into the motion, so he does it again. 

He makes slow circles with the plug, easing the tip inside then back out again, gauging Robin’s reaction to each movement. He’s hard as fuck, but he’ll stop on a dime if she shows any uncertainty or discomfort. He sees none, so he continues with the plug, up and down, teasing inside and out, until she’s shifting her hips each time, lifting them up to meet the plug, the keening noises she’s uttering making him grit his teeth. 

Strike pushes the plug in a bit farther; there’s less than an inch to go, and Robin sucks in a sharp inhale. He pauses. 

“Too much?”

She shakes her head furiously, and swallows thickly. 

“No, not too much.” She lets out an involuntary moan. “God, Cormoran. I want to come so badly.”

“I know, love. I want you to.” 

He pushes the plug in deeper and she arches her back, pushing the plug the rest of the way in for him. He stares for a moment; his current view is breathtaking, and her utter trust in him has momentarily stunned him. 

He leans forward and claims her mouth with his, then, finally, reaches his hand down and rubs slow circles on her clit, taking care to have his tongue echo the movement of his hand between her legs. 

Robin comes, moaning loudly into his mouth, her whole body shuddering. He lets her ride it out, she fucks his hand as the waves hit her, and when he senses the end of it he shifts his weight so he’s leaning on top of her. He knows he’s putting pressure on the plug, and Robin slurs a curse into the pillow. 

He encourages her to turn her head towards him. She does, and he’s rewarded with a dreamy, glowy Robin: glassy eyes, flushed cheeks, parted lips.

She smiles at him, and he grins back. 

“All right?”

“More than, you smug man.”

He chuckles, and then she grabs a fistful of his hair and kisses him, slow at first, then heated and needy. She starts rubbing her arse against his cock, begging him for more, for him inside her. 

He uses his fingers at first, slipping one, then two inside her, and Robin comes fast and hard before she’s begging again. She’s completely undone and he’s about to be, so he moves himself up and behind her, getting into position, and Robin pushes herself onto all fours in a silent, eager plea.  
He taps the plug, and Robin moans. 

“Do you want this out?” he asks. 

“No. I want to try - leave it in.”

“You sure?” he repeats, his voice gravel.

“I’m sure. Cormoran, I need you.” She’s pushing against him and it’s driving him wild, but he has enough presence of mind to draw out their pleasure a bit more; he runs the head of his cock from her clit all the way to the plug and back again, stopping at her entrance and giving her the tip of him, testing. 

Robin moans. “That’s goooooood.”

Strike is already aware he won’t last long. The view is fucking spectacular. He eases in farther, and she rocks back against him until he’s all the way inside. They’re both breathing hard, and he can barely draw a breath without groaning it out again. He pushes his thumb on the base of the plug and they both take a sharp intake of breath. 

He goes slow at first, for Robin’s sake but also his own; he’s been on the edge of climax and he wants to make her come one more time. Instinct is powerful though, and the pleasure that is rocketing through him has him speeding up the thrust of his hips. He knows they’re both long past the point of being quiet but he doesn’t give a fuck. Robin always feels good but this feels unreal. 

He can feel her arms about to give so he bars an arm loosely across her chest to stop her from falling forward into the pillows. Robin moves his palm up to right under her chin, and when he skims her bottom lip with his thumb she bites down. 

He curses, then kisses the back of her neck. 

“I love you, my gorgeous, sweet Robin. You feel so good.”

He takes her mouth with his, and she comes, her body shaking, and he feels her clench around him. He gives into the exquisite release with one last hard thrust, hips pumping shallowly as the orgasm hits him like a freight train. 

They’re panting, sweaty, and messy when he guides them both down again, and they’re lying on their sides. He kisses her shoulder, and she snuggles into him.

“That was pretty amazing.” Her small hand finds his large one. “Thanks for that.”

“I should be the one thanking you.”

She gives a sudden giggle. 

“What is it?” he asks, bemused.

“I told Ilsa that I was going to the loo. What did you tell them?”

He snorts. 

“The same.”

“Well, they’ll know by now, that’s not the case.”

They laugh together, and Strike nuzzles her neck. 

“I love you."

She gives a happy sigh, and turns her head to receive a kiss. 

“I love you, too.”

It occurs to Robin, as Strike drifts into sleep, his arm draped heavy and warm around her waist, to thank Vanessa, the next time she sees her.


End file.
